An open letter to all faded rock stars...

A bit of advice for any 80’s rock stars lurking about this message board.

If VH1 calls asking to do one of those “Where are they now” shows on you…

DON’T DO IT!!

Oh sure, they seem really nice at first, getting you cheese danishes and asking softball questions. Pretty soon you get to trusting them, and in a fit of hubris you give them the whole bullshit rock n’ roll life story your publicist cooked up in 1986.

You’ll get so confident that your not at all suspicious when they refuse to show you the finished product pre-broadcast. You invite your friends over to your house to watch it.

Oh, it starts harmlessly enough. The early years of struggle, snapshots of you in your first band (The Penetrators, how embarrasing), hair, spandex, acne…

Ugh, did they HAVE to show that picture of me with that big cold sore!?

Your not sure when you start looking like a total fool. Maybe it’s when they show that interview you did with Arsenio Hall when you said you were a more inspirational figure than Jesus. Maybe it’s when they show that video you did with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Perhaps it’s when they mention that you blew two million dollars on a three legged racehorse, only to get coked-up and crash him into your Ferrari…

Ugh, did they HAVE to mention my brief, bitter marrage to “Facts of Life” actress Mindy Cohen?

God, did they HAVE to show my mugshot from that arrest for urinating in public?

Sigh. Well, at least they’re going to plug my new album…

Say, guys. You’d tell me if I looked silly with my tattoos and goatee and crowsfeet, right?
Right…?

Is there any more cocaine left?

So if you are the lead singer of, say, Kajagoogoo, or Level 42, or Fine Young Cannibals, or Scritti Politti, think twice about that interview. If you manage not to make a total fool of youself in the immediate future there still a chance for your flash-in-the-pan song to be used in a Burger King commercial, then a comfortable retirement.

Your friend,

Inky

P.S: If your John Oates of “Hall and Oates” you may as well do the interview.

One word: Aerosmith.


Yer pal,
Satan

The lead singer of Fine Young Cannibals, Roland Gift, is doing ads for a bank in New Zealand. He is made up kind of like Max Headroom, all glittery and robotic.

Sad…


“Waheeey! ‘Duck!’ Get it?”
“Errr… No…”
“Duck! Sounds almost exactly like fu-”

LOL! :smiley:

Inky, that was hilarious, and dead on! Thanks :slight_smile:


“I hope life isn’t a big joke, because I don’t get it,” Jack Handy

Aerosmith indeed, Satan.

I suspect that over the years they’ve been selling their souls to the Devil one by one and getting long-term semi-fame rather than them selling all the souls at once for a true meteoric rise to fame.

I also suspect the Devil got shafted on the Axl Rose deal…

Inkz

LOL, Inky, and dead on target!

Though it’s not the “where are they now” that bothers me about elderly rock stars, it’s the ones that won’t go away. There comes a point, regardless of the chops one may or may not have remaining, that it’s time to hang it up. Especially since rock star faces tend to be, as someone said of Mickey Rourke’s, testaments to years of bad living.

And I’m not some arrogant kid, btw – I’m 37. And I find it embarrassing and a wee bit sad that the same people who were rock stars in my youth are still kicking around, like old athletes who don’t know when to get out of the game. Uriah Heep have a new album coming out, for heaven’s sake. Yes, yes, I know, nobody has to go see them. Nonetheless, it creeps me out a little.

Catrandom

Anyone mentioning Rush in this thread is gonna owe me an explanation :wink:

Coldfire


“You know how complex women are”

  • Neil Peart, Rush (1993)

I think Rush owes it’s long, overripe life to Canadian content laws.

Uh-huh. It also explains why they’re huge in Europe, right ??

And it ain’t overripe if it still tastes good. Also, if you didn’t like the initial taste, there’s no way of telling if something is overripe :wink:

(“Huh ??”, I hear you say…)

Coldfire


“You know how complex women are”

  • Neil Peart, Rush (1993)

You misspelled “Bryan Adams”.